<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Wrong place, right time by NoMatterTheOceans</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25228009">Wrong place, right time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoMatterTheOceans/pseuds/NoMatterTheOceans'>NoMatterTheOceans</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Feysand Summer Fluff Fest [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:27:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,140</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25228009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoMatterTheOceans/pseuds/NoMatterTheOceans</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of my Feysand Summer Fluff Fest!!<br/>Prompt: We didn’t make it to the campgrounds before nightfall so just decided to set up camp here by this lake. And wow, is it pretty.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Feyre Archeron/Rhysand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Feysand Summer Fluff Fest [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wrong place, right time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They’ve been walking for hours, and Feyre is pretty sure she can feel the frustration simmering from her boyfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t understand why, really. They’re having a great day together, the weather has been nothing but amazing, and she’s already eager to cook over a campfire for the first time this year. She’s missed the outdoors. They went on regular hikes in the spring but never stayed overnight, so she’s incredibly happy to be out today, the weight of the tent on her backpack almost a joy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhysand doesn’t look so happy, though. He was fine for most of the day, but he’s been brooding for the past hour, and he refuses to acknowledge it. But she’s pretty sure he’ll tell her about it when he’s ready, so  she lets him brood. For now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After another couple of hours, they reach a small mountain lake and take a break. Rhys sits down heavily on a rock, and Feyre walks to the edge of the lake and bends down to brush her fingers on the water, finding it freezing. Her hand still wet, she goes back to Rhys and sits down beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we’re not going to swim in that one, that’s for sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks at him, but he’s still staring in front of him, not even the ghost of a smile on his face. So she raises her hand and presses her freezing fingers to his neck. He jumps at the touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can’t stop a laugh at watching shiver and turn to her in shock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? You’ve been moping around all afternoon, I needed to find something to make you laugh a little.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His shock melts into the small smile she loves so much, and he takes her hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right, I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can see a flush creep up his neck at that, but he shakes his head in dismissal before answering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing, it’s just… I was hoping we’d make it to the next campsite today, but it’s too late to make it, now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t really get why this upsets him so much - it’s just a camp, after all - but she doesn’t want him to stay upset all evening, so she kisses his cheek and pulls him to her until his face is buried against her neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could set up camp here if you want? The lake is gorgeous, we could set up the tent over there, and there’s plenty of dry wood for the fire. What do you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stays against her for a moment more, until he sighs and moves back enough to look her in the eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. Here is fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Night has settled around them, Feyre is currently checking on the potatoes roasting in the embers of the fire, and Rhys is standing near the lake, toying the pebbles with the tip of his shoes. He’s still mad at himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feyre thinks this hike is just a fun weekend together, one of many they already had over their five years together. She doesn’t care about whether or not they’re sleeping by some lake or in a prettier place. A more magical place. Of course she doesn’t care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because of the small box he’s been carrying around all week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had everything planned perfectly. They’d arrive at the campsite early enough to gather wood, set up camp, and watch the sunset together. Then they’d eat, and he would take her on a midnight walk under the stars, until they reached the old mirador. From there, they should be high enough to be able to see the ocean, and the stars reflecting on the water. Then he’d get down on one knee, and make this whole speech about the night sky, and about the deep waters, and about her, and it’d be perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead they’re camping here. And sure, it’s a pretty lake but… you can’t see the ocean from here. You can see stars, but it’s not the same. He knows he shouldn’t be disappointed over something so shallow. It’s a marriage proposal, so it’s not about the aesthetics of the place he does it, or the depth of his speech. It’s about asking the woman he loves to spend the rest of her life with him. And he knows that should be enough. But he really wanted this to be special.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has to postpone it. Think of a better way to propose to her, one that is not too complicated to organize, but still romantic enough for him to express his love for her. It’s fine, he can wait another couple of weeks for them to be engaged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soft arms encircle his waist, and he feels the warmth of Feyre’s body melt with his as she lays her head against his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rhys, what’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rhys.” She doesn’t say more, but she doesn’t need to. She’s worried about him, wondering why he’s been down all afternoon - since the moment he understood they wouldn’t have time to make it to the spot he had in mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing. I’m fine, I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he is. He can wait a few days, it’s no big deal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then he turns around to take her in his arms, and she’s looking up at him with a slight frown, and her face is lit only by the moonlight and the gleam of the fire. He looks at her, and he knows he can’t bare the thought of waiting another second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marry me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her worry turns into surprise, and he watches as she gapes slightly. But she doesn’t say anything, so against his better judgement, he starts rambling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, I had this whole thing planned out, and it was going to be so romantic and you were gonna love it, but then I didn’t plan enough time to actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>get </span>
  </em>
  <span>to the thing, so I thought ‘okay I’ll wait until I can do something even better’, and -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops in his tracks and looks down at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But…” he says without knowing why. “That wasn’t romantic at all. It was barely a proposal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I don’t care. I wanna marry you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she kisses him, and he feels all of his anxiety evaporate as he kisses her back. They stay tangled into one another for what feels like an eternity, exchanging soft kisses and low chuckles, until finally, they let go of each other. Feyre lifts a hand to his hair to ruffle them and says:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna go check on the food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he watches as she walks back to the fire to stir the embers. And that’s when he realizes that he didn’t even give her the ring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it’s fine. They have all the time in the world.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>